Painted Rainbows

When it started, we all painted rainbows But Stacey paints more and more with blue now Her brush moves carefully, etching out numbers and figures She takes her blue masterpiece with her on the train Her heels click on the pavement

But I still have Mark We paint the flowers together Laugh at all the blue kids as their arms jerk the brushes Soon, Mark’s flowers are mostly just red and yellow I start using those colors too, but I miss the purple

I paint in pink now, like I always truly have Mark likes my pink butterfly He doesn’t even mention when I switch to green trees He keeps painting his flowers, smiling through the hair in his face They’re all orange flowers on the day his old hatchback lurches away

The rest nod to me on their way out the door They carry off their blue or red or purple pieces They look at my rainbow

(They have to squint to tell what it is I’m painting with a dry brush and congealed paint Which makes for a strange picture)

I have to leave now I grab the red, paint a quick, angry robin, and shuffle out I drudge into the house, and sheepishly give her the robin Mom sighs, and shoves my angry robin in her desk This one won’t go on the fridge

When it started, all my paintings went on the fridge Especially the rainbows

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